\m/ Metal Up Yer Ass from Adult Swim \m/

Presented by Adult Swim (along with Scion...), Metal Swim is a 16-track compilation of brutal goodness! For free!!! 'Cuz those folks over at Williams Street are some stand-up joes...

The entire album can be downloaded as a zip file or streamed directly from the Adult Swim website. It's been available for a few months now, but I hadn't gotten around to listening to the whole thing til this holiday weekend (+ the requisite multi-hour roadtrippage)...

And the website also features a few more music-comp downloads, with interesting music + neat titles like Ghost Swim...

  1. Death Angel – Truce
  2. Skeletonwitch – Bringers of Death
  3. Torche – Arrowhead
  4. Ludicra – Path of Ash
  5. Kylesa – Forsaken
  6. Black Tusk – Fatal Kiss
  7. Red Fang – Hank Is Dead
  8. Black Cobra – Frozen Night
  9. Saviours – Dixie Dieway
  10. Witch Mountain – Veil of the Forgotten
  11. Isis – Pliable Foe
  12. Jesu – Dethroned
  13. Pelican – Inch above Sand
  14. Zoroaster – Witch Hammer
  15. Withered – Extinguished with the Misery
  16. Boris – Luna

Download it here.


Pure Mayhem Fucking

Just a few reviews this time. They're for movies that either have some graphic sexual content, or have something to do with the band Mayhem.

Only other new thing to report is, I made a Twitter account to use as a Kleenex for the stupid-stuff-I-think-is-funny my brain sneezes out. If you want to follow it, you can be one of the scant few by going here: http://twitter.com/#!/Zwolf666

Or maybe hit this thing, hell, I dunno.

Now, onward...

Antichrist (C, 2009) Lars Von Tier's difficult, pretentious, self-consciously-"art" film reminds me a lot of Andrezej Zulawski's Possession in that it tries hard to shock you and "be about something" but by the end of it you get the feeling that even the people who made it don't know why the characters would do the things they do... possibly because there may be no such reason, other than maybe eleventh-hour schizophrenia. And, ultimately, it's going to be famous for the graphic nature of the sex and gore rather than anything the film really has to say. Willem Dafoe is a psychotherapist married to Charlotte Gainsbourg (they should make a Patti Smith biopic just so they can cast her in it), and while they're busy fucking in the beautifully-shot black and white opening segment, their baby falls out the window and dies. It's so sumptuously filmed that I started laughing rather than getting a sense of tragedy. It looked so much like a TV commercial that I expected the baby to bounce off the roof of a shiny new car and then a corporate logo to come up on screen and a narrator to say, "The new General Motors. Recognize no limits." The couple is overwhelmed by grief... or at least Gainsbourg is, and Dafoe tries to help her through it, apparently out of finding her grief interesting almost as much as from love. They retreat to a cabin in the woods (which is basically a convenient plot device to keep anyone else from interrupting the crazy shit that's going to happen) so they can work through the grief and fears that lead to Gainsbourg's panic attacks. She suddenly has a huge fear of the woods, even though when Dafoe tried to quiz her on what she was afraid of, she had to struggle to come up with anything). She tries attacking him sexually and eventually physically, crushing his groin and drilling a hole through his leg and bolting a weight to it so he can't get away. Going even crazier, she snips her clitoris off with scissors (all this is shown as graphically as possible and you will wince, I don't care how hardcore you are), and it all leads to a conclusion that depends on you to decide what it means because I don't think even the filmmakers are sure. The special effects (including maimed-yet-living animals who sometimes - hilariously - speak) are incredible are the whole thing is amazingly well-shot and the acting is powerful, but characterization is very weak (for all the preoccupation with introspection we end up with little sense of who these people are, much less why we should feel involved in their alien, ludicrous plight), and the pacing is like molten rubber; for most of the movie there's a lot of artistically-framed shots of nothing happening. The movie wants to be shocking, and it is, but it's less shocking if you've already watched Neighbor, which does several of the same gore tricks, just as graphically. And there are a few brief porn shots of actual penetration, but that's no major deal. Watch it because you have to say you did, because even though it's an expertly-made film, there's really not a whole lot of other reason to do it. I didn't dislike it, but it is safely dismissed as an "art film," which is not always a good thing.

And just in case people wanna see what I meant about the Patti Smith reference - look at 'er. (And, no, the song's not racist, it's anything but - if it was I wouldn't be puttin' it up - it's just the only Patti Smith song I really like)

Devil in Miss Jones (C, 1973) One of the few hardcore porn films to be considered classic and even got reviewed by critics, this is weird and somewhat sinister even amidst all the sex acts. Georgina Spelvin commits suicide by slashing her wrists in the bathtub, and ends up in Satan's office for a sort of job interview. He laments that her record should have landed her in Heaven, but since suicide is an act Heaven doesn't forgive, she's stuck with Hell for eternity. The devil's a good sport, though, and lets her go back to Earth for a while so she'll at least get some sinning done in the form of lust. Harry Reems is her teacher, and virginal Spelvin is a quick study. The rest of the movie is nonstop sex -- Spelvin with Reems, Spelvin with a girl, Spelvin by herself with a water hose and grapes and a banana, and then with two guys at once (they come on each other, so be aware that that might happen if you decide to try it at home). Spelvin's not pretty in the least, neither in face or body, but she makes up for it in total enthusiasm and lack of inhibition. By the end she's so crazed with lust that it's actually creepy --- she does seem possessed and diabolical. And, she can act. The end is dark and ironic, with Spelvin's Hell manifested as being stuck in a room, masturbating for eternity with a lunatic who has no interest in her and wants nothing more than to recover a piece of fly shit that he lost, ignoring her pleas to fuck. The classic music score makes it all more melancholy and eerie. A well-made artifact from the days when XXX films aspired to be something other than cheap monkeyspank fodder. But if that's what you're looking for, the hardcore scenes linger for minutes at a time with no edits. Vaginal verite.

Pure Fucking Mayhem
(C, 2008) Documentary on the infamous Norwegian black metal band and the tragic events that have plagued them. Surviving members are interviewed and seem like fairly normal, reasonable metalheads, even while they relay weird stories about their deceased friends. Their singer, Dead, seems to have been legitimately weird. He was depressed and suicidal from age ten when he had a near-death experience and felt he belonged in another dimension. He'd carry dead birds and squirrels in plastic bags so he could inhale the scent of their decay, and slept with them under his bed. He'd bury his clothes so they'd get rotten and full of bugs and would cut himself and drip blood on the audience. Finally he wrote a suicide note - "Please excuse all the blood," so classic -- and cut his wrists and throat and wandered around the house bleeding on everything before blowing his head off with a shotgun. When the guitarist, Euronymous (who at that point was becoming very weird himself and freaking out band members) found his body, he took pictures, sent skull fragments to friends, and claimed to have eaten parts of Dead's brain. One of the photos was used for an album cover. Then Euronymous started making death threats to everyone and signed-and-the-ripped-off Varg Vikernes's band, Burzum. Varg murdered Euronymous, thinking he was just getting him first. After that the Mayhem story becomes more of a regular band story, without anything too insane happening. If you've followed the band at all you'll probably know most of the stories but it's interesting to hear it from the people actually involved. The DVD includes a CD of creepy piano music that doesn't really have anything to do with Mayhem or black metal; I guess whoever released the DVD wanted to expose their own stuff.

Watch the whole thing starting here:

Until The Light Takes Us (C, 2008) Documentary on Norwegian black metal that's well-done and interesting, but it'll help if you already have some knowledge of the genre... but if you do this won't really teach you much you didn't already know. Of course the bulk of the film examines the church burnings and the murders and suicides surrounding Mayhem. Most of the running time is spent hanging out with Fenriz from Darkthrone, who comes across as a likeable and reasonable guy, even though the numerous knife scars on his arms hint that he may be otherwise. Varg "Count Grishnacht" Vikernes from Burzum is interviewed in prison (the prisons in Norway are probably nicer than your house) and he talks about killing Euronymous and his nationalism; he comes across well, which is scary since he's a neo-Nazi idiot. Hellhammer from Mayhem is interviewed and comes across as pretty much of a moron, and Frost from Satyricon makes a real laughing stock of himself by attacking a couch (upon which has been painted with "evil" doodles) and then slashing himself (assuredly fake or he'd've had a trip to the ER). He seems like an attention-hungry goof, and is eager to be used by a pretentious artist who makes bad paintings of guys in corpsepaint. Fenriz's reaction to all this is dismay that the scene ended up as the same kind of trend it was developed to fight against. Don't feel bad, dude, that's just the curse of music.

This is hilarious (but true!)


Best Music of 2010: Space Rock, Post-Rock, Post-Metal, Stoner Metal, IDM

Here's the cream of the musical crop for 2010...

Lots of interesting music from an array of cool bands. Pictured are the 30 best releases of 2010 (in alphabetical order), but my personal favorites of the year are (in no particular order...):
  • Red Sparowes The Fear Is Excruciating, But Therein Lies the Answer
    This is an incredibly beautiful record. Maybe it's just me, but I hear the influence of Animals-era Pink Floyd here. In the best of all possible ways, like Animals was a starting point now far behind them. Saw 'em live in support of this record + was completely blown away by the depth of their sound + the well-pulled-off-live intricacies of their material. Go get this, dammit!
  • Cloudland Canyon Fin Eaves
    This weirdly-gorgeous record of poppy melodies run thru a food processor sounds like somebody found some Loveless-era MBV tracks + rerecorded them with John McEntire + Daedelus co-producing... Fucking excellent, but be careful: this record could feasibly cause hallucinations! And could definitely accompany some...
  • Intronaut Valley of Smoke
    Intricate + involving prog-flavored post-metal, with stand-out vocals (+ harmonies!) + an outstanding fretless bass player (which'll almost always win my heart over...)
  • Julie Christmas The Bad Wife
    Wow... She looks like a pretty scene-grrl, but she sings like PJ Harvey-raised-on-metal... soft + childlike + breathy shifts to wry + sarcastic melds into Satan-possesst blood-curdling murder-screams (really... a vocal + emotional range to make Chris Cornell envious - even the 1990s Chris Cornell, who could actually hit those crazy notes live...); she's one of the few female singers whose work really hits me + it hits hard. Hell, one of the few singers, period. I'd just rather not hear most people's lyrics + vocalizations, as they're too often the weakest parts of the songs... nobody complains about Tortoise's vocals or harmonies live, y'know... Anyway. Evidently, JC brings it all to the stage, too, though, so I'll definitely be checking out Made Out of Babies or Battle of Mice or her solo live show if any of em comes around the podunk Deep South...
  • Mugstar Sun, Broken...
    Another space-rock masterpiece from mostly-instrumental Mugstar! They were way prolific this year, also releasing Lime (some crazy extended jams!!!)
  • White Hills White Hills
    These folks also droppt tons of space-rock; alongside this release were Stolen Stars Left for No One + the Gnod Drop Out with the White Hills team-up with Gnod (extended spacejams, very Bardo Pond-y...)
  • Maserati Pyramid of the Sun
    Pulsing + Kraftwerk-y, with some of the best late-night, open highway driving music in a loooooong time.
  • UFOMammut Eve
    An EP that develops one looooong track across five movements, bringing the best aspects of stoner-metal together in a bubbling stew.
  • God Is an Astronaut Age of the Fifth Sun
    More epic instrumental post-metal; these guys always rock; this one seems more like a soundtrack than ever...
  • Kylesa Spiral Shadow
    Super-tasty + intelligently-composed metal with 2 percussionists! Huge + driving, with wonderfully intricate drum parts buttressing some major riffage...

the rest of the Top 30...

  • The Album Leaf A Chorus of Storytellers
  • Algernon Ghost Surveillance
  • The American Dollar Atlas
  • Deadhorse We Can Create Our Own World
  • El Ten Eleven It's Still Like a Secret
  • Souvenir's Young America The Name of the Snake
  • Trans Am Thing
  • 65 Days of Static We Were Exploding Anyway
IDM / Electronica:
  • Bonobo Black Sands
  • Errors Come Down with Me
  • Fourtet There Is Love in You
  • To Rococo Rot Speculation
  • Quest for Fire Lights from Paradise
  • U.S. Christmas Run Thick in the Night
Stoner Metal + Post-Metal:
  • And So I Watch You from Afar Letters
  • Bison B.C. Dark Ages
  • Electric Wizard Black Masses
  • Gifts from Enola Gifts from Enola
  • Sasquatch III
And, in the Post-Hardcore/Alt-Rock genre:
  • Maps + Atlases Perch Patchwork

... as well as some honorable mentions...
  • Negurã Bunget Vоrstele Pamоntului
    A freaky-ass melding of Eastern European folk + death metal. Still growing on me, though, + certainly worth a listen... Their last one, OM, was outstanding + this new release continues to show the evolution of these musical weirdos!
  • Yakuza Of Seismic Consequence
    The vocals took this one out of the running for me, though the music is (typically of Yakuza) well-done + all over the place, touching down at various times as wild iterations of brutal metal, complex ambient, + out jazz...
  • The Orb + David Gilmour Metallic Spheres
    I wanted this to be, well, fucking badass Dark Side of the Moon revisited kinda shit. It's good, but sadly falls short of its true potential...
  • Brian Eno Small Craft on a Milk Sea
    Held high hopes, this one did, with Eno's culling of 'songs' from hours of improvisational jams with some noteworthy musicians. It's a solid ambient record, for sure, but I'd looked forward to another sonic Eno-vation, like his work on Music for Airports or that lush effects-dripping guitar-driven production on U2's The Unforgettable Fire, + this does not cut any new musical cloth...
  • Monster Magnet Mastermind
    This is more of the same from these cats... It's really pretty good, but has too many of those drumless segments driven by Dave's 'clever' lyrics to really stay rockin' long enough for the "herbal medicines" to really kick in...
  • La Otracina Reality Has Got to Die (cool + heavy psychedelic rock)
  • Stonewall Noise Orchestra Sweet Mississippi Deal (Soundgarden-y vox over some solid stoner metal riffage)
  • Hellas Mounds New Heaven / New Earth (heavy + epic post-metal)
  • Empires Freshwater Reflection (also heavy + epic post-metal)
  • High Places Vs. Mankind (cool afrobeat rhythms + twisty pop melodies)
  • Jaga Jazzist One-Armed Bandit (a giant post-rock/jazz emsemble from Northern Europe... like a more prog-estra Tortoise)
Now, naturally, we don't host any of these here, but you can certainly find some or all of em with some thoughtful searching.


Miracles in Modern Flooring

Against my better judgment, hardwood flooring was recently installed in my house. Soon after it was put down, I noticed something rather amazing... at least, amazing to people who'd consider grilled cheese sandwiches to be something upon which to base their faith in the almighty whodat.

Putting down a rug, I looked down, and what did I see before me, but a vision right out of Mark 4:35-41!

Yes, folks, that is definitely Jesus calming the waters, rendered in a hickory knot (as promised by the Gospel of Thomas line 77, but you might not know that since the church suppresses that book of the Bible, since it says that churches and preachers are unnecessary, and if that were better known it'd screw up a really profitable cottage idiot-exploitation industry)

77 Jesus said, "I am the light that is over all things. I am all: from me all came forth, and to me all attained. Split a piece of wood; I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there."

Yup! I done got mah ass a bona-fide muhfuggin' miracle right there in my floorboards! Praise Jeebus, hallelujah! You doubt? Let's examine this in more detail, shall we?

Since I'm not too great with the camera and can't get the macro lens to work, here's another one, just in case:
Maybe one of those will be clear enough. And then here's a painting of the scene just for comparison's sake:

Anyway, back to the knothole. You can clearly see the prow of the boat Jesus is standing on. His long dark hair is clearly defined. Surrounding him is a glowing halo-like circle of holy light. His robe is flowing, and if you look just below the chest there, it's even monogrammed with a great big "M," which you can see even in the blurry photo. M, of course, is for Messiah! Surely you can doubt no longer the sheer unmitigated holiness of what you are gazing upon!

The only drawback is, I'm pretty sure the figure is making the heavy-metal "Satan" sign of the horns with each hand, so instead of Jesus, this might be Ronnie James Dio.

Which, frankly, would only make it even cooler, because could Jesus hit those unbelievable notes on "Sign of the Southern Cross"? With all due respect, I dare say no, he could not. If it's Dio, the M, of course, stands for "Metal!"

But, I think I'm gonna stick to the Jesus story, because after the newly-elected Republicunt congress wrecks the economic recovery and we're all out of work, I might need to pry up that sumbitch and put it on Ebay to see if I can't get some theocrat (since they'll be the only ones allowed to have money anymore) to shell out $60,000 for it. I figure it's worth at least twice as much as a grilled cheese sandwich, since it depicts a specific scene from the Bible, and might be Ronnie James Dio instead!

If that works, I also have some knotholes that I think might be Jesus's eyes, and one that could be his butthole. Or somebody's, anyway... a butthole's pretty much a butthole, I think, but if I marketed it as Pamela Anderson's or something, nobody'd buy that because everybody's already seen it. Lovely as it is. Besides, the knothole in question looks really kindly.

Anyway, I'm going to look at that plank as part of my potential retirement investment. Since the world contains idiots who'd pay $635,000 for real estate on an asteroid that doesn't even exist outside of a video game (this is why we mustn't raise taxes on the uber-wealthy and let them keep more of their money! Think of all the virtual jobs being created for make-believe people when they buy shit like that!), somebody's surely going to be dumb-ass-stupid enough to buy my Jesus floorboard. But don't make me any offers right now... it's not going up for sale until I'm desperate.

In the meantime, I secretly get to live in a shrine! Blessed be!


now having for happypenis!

I got some Viagra spam in my e-mail today, and the ESL-style English had its own strange beauty, like... a crippled swan. Yes, exactly like that.

I imagine that somewhere out in the world, in some Borat-type country, people are studying English just so they can write spam-copy to sell big-dick-pills.

Here's what I got (with commentary track)...


Subject: Make that your girl was happy!

If you have a small penis is your girlfriend is not happy with 99$!
And she will look for a big penis in 70$!

Okay, if I'm understanding this correctly (and I hope I'm not because being able to understand this logic would probably be a sign of mental illness), if I get a bigger dick, I can save $29. Smaller dick means you have to give your girlfriend $99 (but she still won't be happy), but if you have a bigger dick you can get just as much happiness from her for $70.

I'm not completely certain, but I think if you have to pay her anything, she's not rrrrrreeeeeaaaallly your "girlfriend."

And... why $29? What if I double-dose on the stuff and get a really huge dick? Will she then owe me money? Because I'm looking for ways to earn extra money for Christmas.

If I sleep with my dick under my pillow, will the dick-fairy leave me $29?

Then again, if I could sleep with my dick under my pillow, I wouldn't need anybody's pills, now, would I?


Subject: Is good Men & Girl !!!

Only we have the cheapest ~V1agra~.
Experience a new sensation in sex!

I like this one because just in the title alone we've got (at least) a threesome going already. Although my ideal threesome would be "Is good man and girls." Don't really need the extra man. Nothing wrong with that, mind you, I'd just find it awkward. But, I guess it would be "a new sensation in sex."

And... define this "new sensation." Because that's not necessarily a good thing, y'know.

"ARRGGGHHHHH! Why does it feel like I have a hornet caught in my urethra?"

"Is new sensation in sex! You are liking, yes?"


From: Max.PenisGood12

Subject: Your P4nis will be more than 100$

I got confused at first by the e-mail, because I thought this was my old friend, Max Penisgood from high school. He was one of the Tupelo Penisgoods. Wonder whatever happened to that guy? He was a helluva pole-vaulter!

Anyway, once again, they're trying to put a price on my head. So to speak. Is there really a resale value on penises? Is this some horrifying Turista-style organ-theft thing? Next time you're standing at a urinal, glance down at the next guy and say "I bet you couldn't get more than $39.95 for that thing," see what happens.

Or, maybe getting a bigger wang will cost you more than $100. Which means we now have a budget to work out. If I cut back on Twinkies and dropped my subscription to X-Men comics, I could get a dong big enough to paddle a canoe with.

I wonder how much it'd cost me to get a second one? Because that's what I really want. Some people believe in intelligent design, but... two hands, one dick? Is that really the plan of a smart guy? In a perfect world, a hand-job would look like milking a cow! This is yet another reason why we must fund stem-cell research.

(Old joke dept.: Did you hear about the guy with five penises? His pants fit like a glove! )


Then I got two with snippets of titles that were strangely evocative, like snippets of poetry found scrawled in semen on a madhouse wall...

what charity of judgment; what t

Ed in a most unmanly display of sentiment, and was gl

"What Charity Of Judgement" should be the title of the next U2 album.

And Ed In A Most Unmanly Display of Sentiment should be the title of Ed Gillespie's memoirs.


Good Morning my friend i Alla

Good day friend, you have no wife? We are looking for you! Thousands of girls dream to meet you!

First... Allah is writing to me, peas be upon him? Ah salami like 'em!

And I don't know about thousands of girls (too much of a good thing and all), but I might like to have two of 'em, if my "second dick" plan comes to fruition.


And this one is my favorite:

Subject: Make your dick good

No fancy promises, no outrageous claims... just, "good."

I wonder if this stuff is available over the counter? I want to wander up to the counter in my local Walgreens and say, "Hi, I'm interested in making my dick good."

And if that works, that's when I'll go all Oliver Twist on 'em: "Thank you, please, may I have another?"


American Horror Market, R.I.P. (for the most part), + random movie reviews

Man, I'm bummed. Dorchester Publishing, home of Leisure Books and Hard Case Crime, has succumbed to e-book idiocy and gone tits up with a lily. Yep, one of the die-hards in the horror novel market (1971-2010) has given in and become a "digital publisher" with some print-on-demand. I may buy some of the print-on-demand stuff, but FUCK YOU if you think I'm buyin' that digital download shit. I'll go to used book stores exclusively, or just re-read the hundreds of books I've already got stockpiled. I'm a collector, and the idea of paying for "access" to something I don't really have any control over isn't something that appeals to me at all.

This is tragic, because Leisure was one of the few companies still publishing horror on a consistent basis (two novels a month). They left a lot of the authors in their roster stranded, and a lot of things I'd had in my Amazon shopping cart to buy when they were released will now go unbought, unless they come out in reasonably-priced paper. I bought nearly every title they put out, and I did buy every single Hard Case Crime title. Too many horror books are coming out in $50 limited editions, and, sorry, no insult intended to anybody, but there's nobody out there writing horror right now who are anywhere close to worth $50 a book.

Leisure was one of the biggest-distributed paperback publishers, so seeing them go down is a very bad sign, especially for horror writers. But, people are stupid and short-sighted and quick to buy into foolish trends, like this e-book shit. It'll leave control of an entire library that they paid for in someone else's hopefully-merciful hands... and it's also going to soon make the entire publishing industry a mess, because there are NO standards for that shit: since nobody has to risk any dough to put them out, they don't even need editors anymore - they'll just "publish" anybody's gack. Print-on-demand is bad enough: ever try to read any of those? Typos out the ying-yang, and some of the worst-written garbage imaginable. 99% of everything is shit in general, so with the floodgates wide open, the fiction market will soon be a sewer that nobody will have the patience to sift to to find anything that's actually worthwhile. The Internet is effectively killing off America's entertainment industry - literature, music, and film - which has long been one of the stronger parts of our economy. A lot of writers, bands, and filmmakers honestly don't deserve an audience, and now that there soon won't be anyone minding the gate, they'll have no inclination to improve their stuff, either. I've got several novels I could already release that way, but I'd rather try to get them through a publisher; if they're not good enough to make the cut as judged by a professional who'd have to back it with money, better it go unpublished, or just tossed out here as a Halloween freebie.

Anyway, kudos to Hard Case for seeking another mass-market publishing house. When you do, I shall continue to buy everything you publish. Count on it.

But Kindle, Nook, and all those other e-reader things? Fuck ya. I'm rooting for your fucking destruction and financial ruin. I am as big a book fiend as you're likely to find, and, sorry, you aren't welcome in my library.

Yeah, maybe I sound like Steve Albini ranting against compact discs, and I'll probably lose as big as he did, but, eh... can't help it, I hate "downloads." I still buy CD's and DVDs, I still buy paper books, and I buy them in obsessive quantities... when they're not available anymore, I'm not likely to be spending much of my money on "access." I'm sure I'll sell out a little for a few things when I have no other alternative, but it for-sure won't be with anywhere near the avidity I pursue it now. There's just nothing fun about downloading. And when an EMP attack wipes out most of the the nation's media, I'll be laughin' my goddamn ass off.

O' course, I won't be able to rub it in, because this blog will go down with Lady Gaga's entire body of work (I think I just found the silver lining), but, oh well... :)

Here's your reward for putting up with (or wisely skipping over ;) ) my crazy ludite rant - a bunch of random movie reviews (for films you could probably find "streaming" somewhere - assholes!):


The Challenge (C, 1970) Made-for-TV sci-fi film in which the United States and a small country decide to solve a conflict over ownership of something on the ocean war by having a proxy war on a small island, with each country sending only one soldier. Troublemaker Darren McGavin (who's trying some strange accent that sometimes sounds like he's trying to do Edward G. Robinson, while trying to look like Vic Morrow) is equipped with a double-barrel machine gun and let loose on the island, where he has to face Mako. This is better than you'd think from the director credit (which is the standard "Alan Smithee" pseudonym, which means the director wanted his name taken off, although it‘s reportedly actually George McCowan, who did a lot of TV work and other films such as Frogs). Also stars Brockerick Crawford and James Whitmore.

Horror at 37,000 Feet (C, 1973) Stones from an ancient English abbey (including a Druid sacrificial altar stone) are being shipped in the cargo hold of a passenger jetliner, which is piloted by Chuck Connors and is also carrying Buddy Ebsen, Roy Thinnes, and the always-bad-to-have-aboard-any-sort-of-flying-vehicle William... Shatner. To make things scarier, the navigator is Russell Johnson - the professor who couldn’t find his way off of Gilligan’s Island. Soon the plane is hanging motionless in the sky and some passengers are acting possessed (I don’t think Shatner’s one of them, but with him it’s always difficult to tell what he’s trying to convey). The cargo area starts icing over and people get flash-frozen. The desperate passengers try to appease the evil by sacrificing a plastic baby doll! At least it gets to puke mud and provide this made-for-TV horror flick with some Exorcist-rip-off credentials. Pretty silly, but all old made-for-TV horror is worth watching. Cruise Into Terror was another similar TV movie, but set on a cruise ship instead.

Whole movie online starting here:

Midnight (C, 1982) aka Backwoods Massacre. Even though John Russo wrote the classic Night of the Living Dead, he’s actually a pretty bad writer. And this film proves that he’s an even worse director, because it plays like a particularly cheesy Afterschool Special, but with gore. Nancy, a girl who looks kinda like a heftier Johnny Ramone, runs away after her drunken dad, Lawrence Tierney, tries to molest her. For some weird reason every guy she meets acts like she’s a hottie, so she soon gets a lift from a couple of guys who look a little too old for the Spring Break they’re heading to. Really terrible songs that comment on the action (“You’re on your own, you’re alone, you can’t go home anymore!”) fill the soundtrack, along with the horrible cheap electronic organ junk that makes any movie seem even lower-budgeted than it was. They end up in a town full of racists, who were probably told to ad-lib their dialogue and couldn’t come up with anything but “We don’t need your kind around here” (varied with “we don’t need their kind around here” after they run people off). You can find more redneck depth in “Tiny Town” by the Dead Milkmen than you can in this script. There are a few weak random killings (show a hand raising and lowering a knife a few times, stabbing something off screen) and a terrible car chase accompanied by happy pushing-a-shopping-cart muzak. Nancy ends up captured by some crazed backwoods devil-worshippers who keep people locked up in little pet cages. The family’s trying to get enough girls together for a sacrifice, so they snatch another who’s ineptly trying to play frisbee with her brother and then they start the sacrificing. You can tell this film desperately wants to be another Texas Chainsaw Massacre but thanks to a lack of talent from writer, director, and cast (except Lawrence Tierney, who’s really scary no matter how old he gets), it’s closer to Mystery Science Theater 3000 material. The gore effects are pretty blah, and Russo doesn’t know how to shoot them. But, if you’re in the mood for old-school slasher stuff, aren’t too picky, and like laughing at ineptitude, this isn’t likely to bore you.

Night Rider, The (B&W, 1932) There’s probably a plot to this B-Western, but its producers apparently decided it was none of our business, because it plays like it’s chapter 4 of some 12-chapter serial or something. A cloaked figure called the Night Rider (even though it’s always bright daylight when he rides) is terrorizing the countryside, stealing money and killing people before returning to his hidden cave. One guy he steals from is named George Burns. Harry Carey is a stranger in the area who picks up two sidekicks, Gabby Hayes and a Mexican. Most of the action is confined to the end, but Carey does provide what may be the first incidence of somebody holding their gun sideways in that “gangsta” style. At least Carey’s got a revolver so it won’t be kicking hot brass in his face when he does it, like it will to the rest of those stylin’ dumbasses. The “surprise” identity of the Night Rider won’t be much of a surprise to you if you have any storytelling skills at all. The incomprehensibility of the plot may be due to heavy cutting of the print I saw; I’ve seen this listed as running 75 minutes, but the copy in the Frontier Justice 50-movie DVD pack runs only 54. An extra 20 minutes might help, because Carey and his pals are likeable enough; there’s just not much coherency.

She Mob (B&W, 1968) A gang of female criminals break out of prison and lay low in an isolated farmhouse. They’re all horny so their leader Big Shim (an unbelievable gruesome, brutal, sweaty, slobbery bull dyke in a pointy bra and PVC accessories) calls in Tony, a gigilo she knows. Discovering that he’s now a rich woman’s (played by the same actress who portrays Big Shim) kept boy, she ties him to the bed and holds him for ransom, demanding $100,000 or she’ll castrate him. In the meantime, the girls in the gang (who range from trashy to possibly-retarded) engage his services. The rich woman hires a mod tramp girl detective named Sweetie East (a takeoff on Honey West) to help her. Big Shim gets pissed when Tony starts making out with Baby, who Shim considers her personal property, and puts a cigarette out in his navel. Baby wants to run away with Tony, so she cuts him loose, but that’s a bad idea (for them, that is - cinematically it’s a great idea since it leads to surreal scenes of gun-toting women in freakish lingerie running all over the countryside in the middle of the night), and Baby gets shot, Tony gets caught, and cars get burned up. Big Shim gets the ransom money but decides to make an Antonia out of Tony anyway, dressing him in lingerie and preparing to geld him... unless Sweetie East can save him first. Incredibly sleazy and weird, but also pretty stylish. Even though much of this consists of the usual boring drawn-out-too-long skinflick padding that most of these old sleazefests have, the filmmakers had a little pride in the rest of it. And the bizarre factor is high; it was never likely to turn anybody on, given the moley, Rubenesque women in unflattering costumes. Baby even has awful balloon breast implants with clearly visible scars. The sex ranges from typical softcore necking to whipping and pointy-bra-stabbing (“My tits are as hard as my heart!”) Unique.

The opening to every Something Weird DVD includes a couple seconds of this film:

Young, Violent, and Desperate (C, 1976) aka Young Violent Dangerous, Liberi Armati Pericolosi. Three young hoodlums get stupid while holding up a gas station and end up in a shoot-out with the cops. They decide to take things to the next level by holding up a bank. Police inspector Tomas Milian (looking so 70’s conventional that he’s almost hard to recognize) is after them, and they shouldn’t be too hard to track, because they’re not terribly bright. One is a complete idiot, making stupid jokes and throwing money out the car window. Instead of following these obvious leads, Milian lectures their parents about the proper way to raise kids. One of them picks up his girlfriend and takes her along on the crime spree, even though she’s really not into that kind of thing. (Even if she were, I don’t think anybody could stand being around that one obnoxious guy; what an insufferable giggling jackass this guy is, even by Italian crime drama standards). Their getaway becomes more inept and pathetic as they go along, yet the cops still have a hard time tracking them down. Luckily they start fighting amongst themselves and tangle with a stereotypical German camper, and that speeds things up a bit. Pretty average, despite its fast pace and enlivening downbeat finale. Milian is basically wasted.